


The Dragon's Daughter

by 17daysgreys



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 08:52:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19002472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/17daysgreys/pseuds/17daysgreys
Summary: Arya is sent north to rally troops for Aegon's cause, but what happens when threats in the North are too hard to bear and she flees. On her way back South she runs into a particular old friend. Will she find comfort in his arms or will she die trying to protect what's most important to her, her pack?





	The Dragon's Daughter

_“Go,” he told her, “Go home.”_

_“You’re my home,” she responded, tears staining her cheeks._

_“I’m needed here,” he hesitated, as he pulled her into his embrace, “We’ll see each other again, I promise.”_

_“Promise me?” She asked, eyes glazed with tears._

_“I promise.”_

_He kissed her fiercely as before she and their daughter got on the horse to ride north, “I’ll be right behind you.”_

_She couldn’t bear to look back at him as she clutched her daughter and rode like mad out of the Stormlands. The war was beginning and she knew she had to rally the troops in the north for his cause._

_“I’ll see him again,” she thought to herself, “I have to.”_

Winterfell was nothing like she remembered it being. After a hard four weeks ride, with her four-year-old daughter, Elia in tow, she had been looking forward to breathing Northern air once more. But something felt empty, foreign almost, as if there was an ominous cloud of doubt hanging over the north.

She knew that her brother had become King in the North, as Aegon had received many a raven from various houses stating so. It’s part of the reason he sent her North, they needed the Northern troops to finally defeat Cersei once and for all and to put him on the Iron Throne. She didn’t want to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and he had never asked her to be. However, spending years as No One had taught her not to leave love alone and even if she had to sit in a circle with other high-born ladies and do needlework until her fingers bled, she would do it.

“Halt, who goes there?” A guard asked.

“I am Arya of House Stark,” she said confidently, “I am here to see King Jon and Lady Sansa.”

“And I’m Cersei Lannister,” the guard snarked back.

“I think it is in your best interest to let me in,” she smiled, “This is my home after all.”

“The refugees are to gather in Wintertown.”

Not more than fifteen minutes later she and her daughter found themselves in Winterfell’s crypts.

“Mother,” she clutched onto Arya’s furs, “This place is scary.”

“Sweetling,” Arya looked into her daughter’s grey eyes, “This is where all the Stark Kings of old are buried. They are your kin, and he,” she pointed to the statue of her father, “He was my father.”

“Lord Eddard Stark,” she smiled.

“Yes,” Arya felt somber, “Lord Eddard Stark.”

“Bran told me I’d find you here,” a voice came from behind startling Sansa, “How did you slip past the guards?”

“You need better guards,” she laughed.

The little girl hid behind her mother’s legs afraid of the tall woman with red hair that flowed down her back in waves. It was so different from her own platinum blonde tresses.

“You’re home,” the woman breathed, “How did you get here?”

“That’s a story for another time,” Arya deadpanned, “I need to speak to Jon.”

“He’s not here.”

“Where is he?”

“At Dragonstone.”

Arya’s face paled, she was well-aware of Aegon’s aunt Daenerys Targaryen, she was also fighting for the throne, but it was Aegon’s by right. They had a plan in place, they were going to separate the Kingdoms and offer independence, he had parlayed the idea with her council but received no response.

“Why is he there?”

“He’s preparing for the Great War,” Sansa answered as if it was the most common knowledge in the world.

“The what?”

“We need dragon glass and her dragons and her armies, the tales Old Nan told, were not tales after all.”

“The White Walkers, they’re real?”

“Terribly so.”

“The white what?” A small voice squeaked, startling Sansa.

“What was that?”

Arya stepped aside and there was a small girl with bright blonde hair reaching her waist, braided as intricately as Arya could muster. Of course, the gods would deal her a hand where her daughter loved lady-like activities almost more than Sansa.

“That,” Arya laughed, “Would be my daughter, Elia.”

“Your daughter?”

“Yes.”

The girl was shy, staring at her feet, hoping that her presence hadn’t offended the other woman.

Sansa bent down, “Hello,” she hesitated, “I’m your Aunt Sansa.”

The girl’s eyes went wide, “You’re my Aunt Sansa? You’re even prettier than mother said.”

Sansa laughed, “Oh she told you I was pretty?”

“And much, much— “

“Elia!” Arya yelled.

“Well we know she’s your daughter.”

 

 

Arya and Elia were at Winterfell for about a month when Jon’s party had arrived with the Dragon Queen. There had still been no word from Aegon, but she prayed that he hadn’t gone to battle yet. They weren’t prepared, even if he did have the Golden Company on his side, he wouldn’t defeat Cersei.

Arya had left Elia in the care of a hand-maiden and went to attend a war council meeting. She and Jon had reuninted last night and she didn’t feel like it was right to tell him about Elia, not with his mind being entirely focused on the Night King.

“I’ve seen them,” Jon said, addressing the room, “They will not stop. We must work together to fight them.”

“But with a Targaryen?” Lord Glover shouted.

“Yes,” he said, “With a Targaryen.”

As the meeting drug on, Arya found herself getting bored. So, she studied the Dragon Queen. Her hair was emmaculate and her face had a sense of dread and annoyance on it. Clearly, she wasn’t used to not getting her way.

Tyrion Lannister entered the room, “Your grace, there’s been a raven. Storms End has fallen to Cersei.”

Arya felt her breath hitch in her throat.

“ _Aegon iksis morghe_ ,” she said to her advisor.

Aegon is dead.

Arya had stayed quiet the entire meeting, but for some reason the pompous look on the Dragon Queen’s face made her seethe, “Se ao bask isse se riches hen zȳhon failure, ȳdra daor ao?”

And you bask in the riches of his failure, don’t you?

She tried to hide the bite in her tongue and the tears that were forming in her throat as Daenerys looked at her with shock.

“Sīr se rumour iksin drēje, īles zȳhon kepa's tresy”

So, the rumour was true, he was his father’s son.

The Lords were watching them with great anticipation. Jon stood there in shock, gaping at how his sister was arguing with Daenerys. He hadn’t a clue what they were saying.

“Kessa ao zālagon nyke se ñuha tala ondoso drakarys gō se rōvēgrie vīlībāzma iā tolī ao dīnagon ñuha lēkia?”

Will you burn me and my daughter before the Great War or after you marry my brother?

“I would never harm a child,” she answers in the common tongue.

“Yn ao would ōdrikagon nyke?”

But you would harm me?

The queen pursed her lips and nodded, “Pazavorve kessa sagon rōvēgrī rewarded, mirros else kessa result isse aōha morghon.  Kostas sagon brōstan ñuha heir- sagon dāria tolī nyke.  Isn't bona skoros ao both jeldan?”

Loyalty will be greatly rewarded, anything else will result in your death. She can be named my heir- be Queen after me. Isn’t that what you both wanted?

Arya stood up and spat at the ground, “You will never be my Queen and if you ever suggest her to be your heir, I will slit your throat without hesitation.”

“Arya,” Jon yelled, but she was gone. She needed to get her daughter and run, they were no longer safe in the North.

She gathered the essentials and drafted a raven for Sansa telling her where she was going, they’d be safe in Dorne.

“Elia,” Arya interrupted her lessons, “We have to go.”

“Go? Where?”

“We don’t have time for questions, please,” Arya’s voice was desperate.

She was in the yard about to get up on her horse, when she saw Jon running towards her. She shieled Elia with her cloak and ran off, she heard him cursing her and yelling for someone to get him a horse. She knew he’d catch her, but that didn’t stop her from pushing her horse to its limits.

“Mother, I’m scared.”

“Hush, my sweet, don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon.”

“Sansa,” Jon shouted, “She— she left,” he ran his hand through his hair.

“I know,” she responded.

“Why didn’t you stop her? Where even is she going?”

“Somewhere safe.”

“And here isn’t safe? This is her home.”

“Her home is her family.”

“We’re her family.”

“We’re not her only family,” Sansa tried to explain, but Jon didn’t understand.

“She was my nephew’s wife,” Daenerys interrupted.

“His what?”

“His wife,” Bran interjected, “She and Aegon Targaryen met while she was in Braavos. They married a few years back.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?”

“She needed to protect someone,” Bran answered.

“Who?”

“Her daughter, Elia Targaryen,” Bran glanced over at Daenerys, “The rightful heir to the Iron Throne.”

And with that, Jon bucked his horse, hoping to catch up to his younger sister.

 

 


End file.
